La Femme en Rouge
by MaryWinchester
Summary: Christina Rojas travels to New York City on business, as well as to find clues that will lead her to her father's killer. The young drug lord finds herself tangled in a web of lies, deception and people who want her dead.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I wanted to try something a little new. This isn't exactly in my zone of writing, but I thought I'd give it a try. A story like this has been floating around in my head, especially now that season four is right around the corner! We see powerful men in every episode, and I thought, let's throw in a young and powerful woman. I think you'll like Christina Rojas, and not just because she's someone you wouldn't want to cross. There's a lot more to this girl than a pretty face. I hope you enjoy! Leave me some feedback as well!_

* * *

**Chapter 1: **

**Femme Roi - Woman King**

* * *

Christina stared out the window of the train, watching the green and brown countryside roll past in a blur. In an unladylike manor, she crossed her arms and her legs and slouched down into her seat. The two older women in the seat across from her scoffed and shared a look. Christina pursed her lips, keeping her gaze level with the outside world. Her mind threatened to stray back to the previous week; Christina hadn't shed a tear. What kind of girl didn't cry over the death of her father? Christina huffed just as a conductor came strolling down the aisle.

"Excuse-me, sir," Christina stopped him in his tracks. She smiled sweetly at him, "How much longer until we reach New York City?"

"About another hour, miss," He smiled back and winked at her. Once he walked away Christina dropped the smile and rolled her eyes. She didn't much enjoy the flirtatious antics of men, especially older ones. She only pretended to enjoy them when she desperately wanted something. It was an antic she would need to start getting used to, especially in the cities now that the family business was slowly getting attention.

Christina turned her head and stared out the window once more; the business was hers now, and she was clueless as to what to do. Thomas wasn't there to help her; not that she would want his help. Last she heard their father sent him up to Chicago in search of more associates. Did Thomas know that their father was dead? Christina would have sent a letter, but she didn't know her brother's exact location at the time. Carefully, her mind drifted back to the night she found out about her father's death.

* * *

_It was a cool night in South Carolina; Christina was out at a party when the murder took place. The young woman was dressed in her signature color; red. Boys and men alike all turned to her, buying her drinks and begging for kisses. Christina wasn't like that, she never did anything more than simple teasing. It was two in the morning when Christina decided to call it a night. She took her father's car and drove an hour back home._

_They lived in a tight-knit community that buzzed with secrets. Christina wondered how no one ever found out about their business. She did her best to stay awake as she drove home. It was a quiet ride, and her mind was empty. Christina was looking forward to collapsing on her bed and sleeping in late; one of the many perks of her lifestyle. She turned down onto her street and slowed the car when she noticed many police vehicles parked just outside of the house. Christina's heart sank right into her stomach._

_Neglecting to turn off the engine, Christina jumped out of the car and ran towards the commotion. She pushed past federal agents and sheriffs to get inside. Blocking the door was a man in uniform, "You can't go in there, Miss," he said._

"_I live here you fool," Christina growled. "What the hell is going on? Where's my father?"_

"_Miss Rojas," another man said. Christina glanced over the shoulder of the first man. "Let her through, Jameson." The guard stepped aside; Christina glared at him and she walked into the house. Her hands were trembling as she began to think the worse; had they finally caught on to her father's work? Were they going to arrest him? Would they arrest her too?_

"_What happened? Where is he?" she demanded._

_The officer removed his hat and gestured for her to follow. Slowly, they made their way into her father's study. Furniture was turned over, there were papers everywhere. Christina noticed the bullet holes in the wooden wall behind her father's desk, and the splatters of blood on the carpeted floor. Bile crawled up her throat, but she held it back. "I'm sorry, Miss Rojas, but your father did not make it," the officer said. Christina's eyes searched the room for her father's body, but she did not see it. They must have removed it before she arrived._

_Christina didn't know what to do or say. She simply nodded, her hands still trembling. "A neighbor overheard some commotion and then the shots. They called the police immediately and we've been here for the past hour hoping you or your brother would arrive," the officer explained._

"_My brother's in Chicago," Christina said. "Do you know who did this?" Christina's head felt light and she began to feel dizzy. The alcohol consumption from earlier as well as the overwhelming atmosphere of this situation were not suiting her well._

"_We were hoping you could help us with that," he said. "Did your father have any enemies?"_

_Of course he had enemies, he worked in drug trade! But, Christina didn't say that. Instead she played the innocent young lady and shook her head. They placed her down in a chair; Christina covered her face, producing fake sobs and tears. "I'm sorry," she managed. "This is just too much."_

"_I understand this is difficult for you, Miss Rojas," the officer said. "But the sooner we ask the questions, the sooner we can find the killer."_

"_I understand," Christina said. "My apologies... I knew I should have stayed home."_

"_Where were you, Miss Rojas?" the officer asked._

"_Out with friends, celebrating a birthday," she answered. She sighed, "Can't we do this in the morning? I need some time to myself, to cope with my loss."_

_The officer thought about it for a minute. "Okay, Miss Rojas tomorrow we'll ask the questions and then leave you alone," he said. "But I'm going to keep a couple of my guys here just to keep an eye on the place and on you as a safety precaution."_

"_Okay," Christina said. "Thank you, officer."_

_Within two days of the murder the family lawyer, Andrews, paid Christina a visit. "I am so sorry to hear about Friedrich's passing," the man with the glasses said. Christina closed the front door and led them both into the dusty sitting room._

"_I assume you knew about your father's will," Andrews said. This was news to Christina; she never knew that her father had written a will. What did the man have to offer that wasn't the business or copious amounts of money?_

"_There's not much," Andrews continued. He reached into his brown briefcase and pulled out a black folder. Inside the folder was a single sheet of yellowed paper. "It just states that in his passing, the business will be passed on to the next in line if they so agree." He looked up from the will over at Christina. "Where is your brother, Thomas?"_

"_Chicago," Christina answered. "I haven't heard from him since he left."_

"_It states in the will that the business should be his unless he denies, but since he is not here to either agree or deny the option I suppose the ownership of the business goes to you. Do you accept?"_

_Christina slowly nodded her head, not fully realizing the troubles she was about to put herself in. "I do," she said._

_Andrews adjusted his glasses and hesitated a moment. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Should we wait for your brother, just in case?"_

_Christina narrowed her eyes at the man. "I agreed, Andrews. Do you think I'm not capable of handling my father's business? I know more than you think."_

"_I do not doubt your knowledge, my dear," Andrews said. "But there are no women in such businesses... the others will crush you."_

_Christina smiled politely and said, "I'd like to see them try."_

* * *

Christina knew that after her father's death, staying behind in South Carolina wouldn't be safe for her. Drug trade was a nasty business, especially when there were more lords popping up around the world each day. Christina needed to let her family's business live on; she needed to give meaning to her father's name. During her meeting with Andrews, they discussed her situation. Andrews thought it wise for Christina to seek out her father's best associates and to continue searching for more. Christina spent the entire day packing up her essentials, and the following morning she purchased a ticket for the first train to New York City.

"Now approaching Grand Central Station!" the conductor shouted from the front of their train car. Christina straightened out her posture and reached for her overturned bag. She picked it up off the empty seat beside her and began shoving all the contents back into it. The last item she picked up was a letter addressed to her; the letter arrived just after Andrews left, it was from her brother, Thomas. Christina didn't have the heart to read it, but she knew that Thomas had the right to know what happened to their father. Christina sighed and placed the letter into her bag before reaching to grab her other belongings.

Three suitcases, two carry ons and one bag later, Christina made her way through Grand Central. There was a thick crowd of people over by the ticket counter, she spotted a few couples bidding each other goodbye, and it wasn't New York without the homeless man sitting against the wall with a cup filled with change. Christina and a station worker made their way out of the building and onto the busy city streets.

"Keep up, will you," she said to the man carrying her belongings. "I have an important meeting with an old friend, and I don't want to be late."

The first person she contacted via telephone before leaving South Carolina was one of her father's best clients, Charlie Luciano. The station worker hailed Christina a cab. She hopped into the back seat, not even tipping the poor station worker after he loaded up her luggage. "The Plaza Hotel," she told the driver. He nodded and took off down the busy streets of the city.

Lucky Luciano was one of the first associates of her father's. They'd been working together a little over three and a half years. Christina had met the young man on occasion; she enjoyed his charming yet dangerous personality. Lucky and Thomas were both the same age, but they never got on well. It took the driver ten minutes to get to the Plaza Hotel. Already, the doorman brought forth a couple of helpers to load up her luggage on a cart.

Christina pulled out a five dollar bill and handed it to the driver, "Keep the change," she said.

"Welcome to the Plaza Hotel," the doorman greeted. Christina smiled as she stepped through the front doors and into her second home. Whenever she was bored in South Carolina, Christina would imagine that she was back in the lavish Plaza hotel room. She walked over to the front desk. "Hello Miss, welcome to the Plaza Hotel, how long will you be staying?"

Christina bit her lip. She wasn't sure how long she'd be in New York. "Uh... a month, maybe longer; I have the money for it, it's no problem."

"Of course it's not," the concierge said. He pulled out a large guest book and set it on the counter, "Suite preference?"

"The Terrace Suite," she answered. All the rooms were luxurious, but as you went up the scale, each was more luxurious than the previous one.

"Name?" he asked.

"Christina Rojas. R-O-J-A-S," she answered.

"Would you like to pay upfront or at the end of your stay?"

"At the end of my stay," she said. "What would I have to do if I need to extend my stay?"

The concierge stared at her. "Well," he said, after writing everything down. "You would pay for your first stay and then at the end of your second stay you would pay for that as well." He disappeared into a side room and returned moments later with a key. "Your room key; we will have your bags delivered up to your room shortly. Enjoy your stay, Miss Rojas."

Christina smiled and plucked the key from the man's hand. "Lovely," she said.

Christina slowly walked towards the elevators, letting the scenery around her soak in. This was the lifestyle she was born to live... even though the money came from illegal business. Christina told the man in the lift the number of her floor. She leaned against the back of the elevator with a dazed smile on her face. She was thrilled to be back; it was going to be an entirely different adventure. She thanked the man a few minutes later and walked down the hall in search of her room.

Her room was located at the end of the hall. She inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. Christina was greeted with a cool breeze from the open windows. It smelled like lemons and lavender. Christina placed her key on the table next to the door. She wandered around the suite, not overlooking a single detail. Yes, this was far more luxurious than the Edwardian Suites. The walls were a pale cream color that brightened the room. The furniture was a mixture of brown and white with splashes of unusual colors here and there.

Her shoes clicked against the wood floors as she walked from room to room. In the bedroom, golden accents lined the ceiling, doors and bed frame. Christina opened up the closet; her heart swooned at the sight of all the space. Before she could explore the bathroom and study, there was a knock at the door. Christina walked back into the foyer. She reached for her bag and pulled out a ten.

"Where would you like these, Miss?" the bellboy asked once she opened the door.

"In the bedroom, please," Christina said.

The bellboy pulled the luggage cart along, Christina followed. He quickly unloaded the cart and Christina handed him his tip. "Thank you," she said.

The bellboy stared at his tip and then smiled at her, "Thank _you_, Miss."

Once she was alone again, Christina began to unpack her belongings. She glanced at the clock; it was only two-thirty. Lucky should be stopping by soon enough, she realized. Christina busied herself by hanging her dresses and stowing away her shoes.

Nearly an hour had passed before she received a call from downstairs. Christina smiled as she answered the phone. "Hello," she said.

"Miss Rojas, there is a gentleman here by the name of Luciano. He'll be waiting for you in the Palm Court."

"Tell Mister Luciano that I'll be down shortly," Christina said. She hung up the telephone and ran into the bathroom. Christina ran fingers through her hair, wearing it down instead of up. Unlike majority of the girls in this day and age, Christina hardly ever wore her hair in a short length. She liked it long; she liked to show it off. Christina pinched her cheeks to give them a pinkish tint. Satisfied with what she saw in the mirror, Christina left her room to greet an old friend.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I forgot to mention that this story does not take place on any specific Boardwalk timeline. I have the year set as 1923. There may be some mentions to the show in cases of past events, but it will not directly follow. In a way, it's kind of like an AU. Also be warned that we jump into various actions quickly, like in the show. Here we get to see her relationship with one character, and in the next it'll expand to others. I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 2: **

**Trafic de Drogue - Drug Trafficking**

* * *

Christina entered the Palm Court, scanning the numerous tables for that one familiar face. The aroma of tea and coffee filled the air as she walked deeper into the Court. Christina's eyes landed on a handsome man sitting alone. His hat was on the table, and he wore a grey tailored suit. A smile sprang onto Christina's face as she walked towards him. "Looking dapper as ever, Lucky," she said once she was close enough for him to hear.

Luciano smiled and stood up. The two hugged for a few seconds before taking their seats. "And you look as gorgeous as ever," he replied. "What brings you to New York? You were very brief." Lucky was all about business, so it didn't surprise Christina that he jumped into the topic of conversation so quickly.

Christina sighed, folding her hands in her lap. "My father was murdered five nights ago," she said.

"Friederich was murdered?" Luciano asked. He seemed rather surprised. "By who?"

Christina shrugged, "I don't know. The case is most likely going to be dropped since the police haven't received any new leads."

"So... what about the business?" he questioned. "What happens to that? Is it Thomas's now?"

"No, actually," Christina said. "It's mine I haven't heard from Thomas since he left for Chicago on our father's orders. He sent a letter, but I haven't read it. The business would have gone to him if he was present at the reading of our father's will; since he wasn't, I've taken control."

Luciano's reaction to Christina's words went from that of seriousness to humor; he laughed, and Christina frowned. "You think I can't handle it? I know what I'm doing. I know the ropes."

Luciano ceased his silent laughter. "I understand, sweetheart," he said. "But this line of work is no place for a lady. It's dangerous, you'll get yourself killed."

"Worried about my well-being, are you?" Christina smirked. "You're not the first to tell me that my decision isn't wise, but it's the one I've made. The business is mine. My family is still your supplier, and you're still our mule; that much hasn't changed."

Their conversation became hushed as a waiter visited their table, taking their orders. Luciano ordered nothing, but Christina settled on a cup of tea. They remained quiet until their waiter returned with Christina's small order. Once he was out of earshot, their conversation continued. Luciano leaned back in his seat and placed a hand on top of his hat. He moved the accessory slightly to the right, casually, before speaking. "Lansky and I aren't in control of the trade; Rothstein gypped us out of it. He has the reigns now. So really, he's your mule and I'm his. I'm here on his behalf once we start talking business."

Christina took a sip of her tea. She set it back down on the small dish and said, "Always jumping to the point. Whatever happened to basic conversation?"

"That's now how things work in this world, sweetheart" Luciano said. "You get in and you get out; getting personal could cost you."

There was a brief silence before Christina began to speak. "Father was expanding his resources; we don't just deal in heroin but cocaine and marijuana as well... opiates too."

"Jesus," Luciano whispered. "Where are you getting it all?"

"Friends of family," Christina smiled. "Not only does it give the buyer more options, but the sales are bound to increase as well. Meaning everyone gets a slightly higher share than they currently have now. I know how much money means to people."

"Money isn't the only thing that matters," Luciano reminded her. "It's the power behind the operation; being known for your success. Right now, you're rising to that position; people would kill you for it."

Christina raised an eyebrow. "Don't go getting ideas, Lucky," she warned him. "I might not care much for power, but I'm still that person who could unleash hell if crossed."

Luciano smirked and chuckled. "You really are your father's daughter; tough and mysterious. How do I know all this isn't just talk?" he asked.

"Why don't you find out?" she returned the smirk. On the outside she radiated confidence, but on the inside, Christina was unsure about her words and motives. She didn't have anyone to take care of her problems; it was all up to her. Another moment of silence fell over the tale. Christina pushed her tea aside and sat straighter in her seat. "I placed a request for your original order. It should be here within a few days, and if you'd like, you can take some new samples to your boss and see if you want to expand your own options too."

Slowly, Luciano nodded his head. "Alright, you got me," he said.

Christina smiled and stood up just as Luciano placed a five on the table to pay for her tea. "That's a bit excessive," she stated.

"Your choice of digs is excessive," he said, gesturing to their surroundings. Luciano offered her his arm which Christina graciously took. The two made their way out of the Palm Court and towards the elevators. Christina told the man in her elevator the floor number. Within minutes, Luciano and Christina stepped out. The hallway was chilly due to the open windows along the floor. Christina walked all the way to the end of the hall and unlocked the door to her room.

"How are you getting the shipment here without the cops snooping around?" Luciano asked.

"Father would send them in small crates. Our cousins down south run a soap business, so the goods get stowed away in small soap boxes," Christina explained. She walked through the suite towards the bedroom, Luciano followed. Christina reached for the suitcase she hadn't opened. The case was filled with different styles and colors of shoes, Luciano rolled his eyes; it was the one thing about women he wouldn't fully understand.

"Why the hell you got so many shoes?" he asked.

Christina smirked and shrugged. At the bottom of her case, she pulled out four small soap packages. The first she handed over was the heroin. "This one's the cocaine," she said, handing over the second. "Basic stuff makes people really energetic and alert, very addictive." The third box was the opium; she didn't bother giving an explanation. The last box was the marijuana. "They roll it up into what they call a joint and smoke it," she said. "It gives you a good high; you lose yourself for a while. Again, it's addictive and doesn't seem to be as dangerous as the others."

"You tried it?" Luciano asked.

Christina laughed and shook her head, "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "The only thing that will taint my body is alcohol; nothing more, nothing less." Luciano smiled. He placed the boxes into the pocket of his suit coat. Christina crossed her arms, "So, let me know what Rothstein has to say about not just receiving the heroin."

"Will do, sweetheart," Luciano said. "It'll be easier if you just stop by tomorrow and ask him yourself."

They began making their way towards the front door. "I'll re-introduce you to him and I'll introduce you to a couple of others. You want in on this business, you gotta start being social."

He had a very reasonable point. Christina nodded, "Tomorrow, noon. I know where to go, no need for directions." She tapped her temple with her index finger and said, "It's all in here."

Luciano quickly kissed her on the cheek, but before he left he said, "Read your brother's letter, find out where he is. As much as you think you can do this alone, having some help isn't the end of the world, sweetheart." Christina let her arms fall to her sides when her acquaintance left. She turned around and spotted the letter sitting on the marble table in the foyer. Her jaw tightened as she reached for it. Christina turned the envelope over and over in her hands, wanting to know what her brother had to say, but at the same time, wanting to ignore it.

Christina walked back into the bedroom with the letter in her hands. She sat down on the edge of her bed and began tearing the back of the envelope. She pulled out one sheet of folded paper; unfolding it, she noticed how short the letter was. The handwriting matched that of her brother's, cramped and small. It almost seemed like he wrote it in a hurry. Christina set the torn envelope beside her as she began to read the letter.

_Dear Christina,_

_As you know, I'm in Chicago on father's behalf. He sent me here to talk to one of his associates-a Mr. Capone-I am pleased to say that I have spoken with Mr. Capone and should be returning home shortly. I apologize for not writing sooner, but I've been caught up with extra work sent from our father. I hope to hear back from you before I leave the city. If not, I understand. I'll see you soon, sister._

_Love, your brother,_

_Thomas_

Sighing, Christina read the letter a few more times before setting it down on the bed. Something about it didn't seem right, but she refused to question it further. She reached for the envelope and saw that there was no enclosed return address. Christina used her brother's letter and turned the page over, using the blank side to write on.

_Dearest Brother,_

_I apologize ahead of time for the tone of this letter. I regret to inform you that our father was murdered a few nights ago. I am no longer residing at our current home because it is not safe. If someone was after him, then they might be after us as well. I also regret to inform you that the business father ran does not fall to you. Since you were not present at the reading of the will, Andrews reluctantly signed it over to me. I do not wish to hear back from you, I know what I'm doing. I do not wish for you to find me either. Things are under control, Thomas. Do not worry about me or the business. It's in safe hands._

_Sincerely,_

_Christina_

She frowned; the letter sounded childish. Christina bit her lip, threatening to tear it up, but instead she folded it. Christina placed it on the dresser in her room and left it there. She would send it in the morning. Besides, she instructed her brother to not find her, but her gut feeling said that he would not listen to her wishes. Thomas would want the business; he's been waiting for it his whole life. Christina wasn't going to give it up so easily though, not without a proper fight.


End file.
